Beach Chair
by Chellero
Summary: Joss Carter goes on vacation, and gets her groove back.


A/N: Thank you, wolfmusic218!

Joss Carter set her cell phone down beside her and reclined back in her beach chair. Taylor's plane had landed safely in New York and Paul had picked him up from the airport. Knowing her boy was safely on the ground once more, she breathed in deeply and closed her eyes behind her sunglasses, enjoying the warmth underneath the shade of her umbrella.

For the umpteenth time since she'd arrived, she smiled to herself. She had needed this. And she didn't know just how much until she got it. For three blissful days and nights, it had been just her and her son, enjoying time together away from home, away from all the stress and the demands and the pretrial motions…..and the secrecy. Just the two of them making up for lost time as her job and involvement with HR members' trials kept her away from him for much too long. Taylor had just finished his junior year and she only had one more year with him until he was going to leave her. Her only baby. She sighed wistfully to herself. Things were going to be different soon. As soon as the Quinn trial finally got under way and out of her life, they were going to be different. She was going to enjoy every last moment before her boy became a man and she'd be going home to an empty house.

Six months.

It had been six months since everything came to a head. The time had gone by quickly but it had taken its toll regardless. Running from crooked cops and criminals for hire. The relief once she'd handed Quinn over to the feds while wondering what had happened to John once he left to go potentially sacrifice himself for her quest for justice. The shooting once he'd gotten released. Her bullet sending Simmons to his grave at the same time his had tried to send her to hers. Kevlar had saved her that day yet again, and she had saved John. Fate had once again placed the two of them together so they'd both live to see another day. Together. Only they hadn't been together much since it happened, and it didn't feel right. All this time later and it still didn't feel right.

She missed his presence but she knew it was necessary. With the severity of the case pending against Quinn, her protection under the FBI, and having had to explain why she was with "John Doe" when she killed Simmons in his defense and her own, she had had to sever ties with him and Finch. After everything she'd done, everything she'd gone through to bring that bastard and his crew down, she could not mess it up by revealing her own duplicity. She hadn't needed to tell John and Harold that, though. They already knew and had stopped contacting her on their own. Fusco served as her conduit on occasion when she asked about them. And she'd felt herself being watched at least once a month since, looking around and making eye contact with John for a few seconds before he disappeared. Though the scenery changed, the unspoken words between them never did:

_Carter. _

_Hey._

_Are you okay? _

_Yeah. You?_

_Yes. I'm still around if you need me. _

_I know._

It was always the same three-second long conversation without words and she always felt better afterwards. And after everything he'd told her the night they were shot and the night they were on the run, she felt more than better, actually. She felt loved.

She shifted in her chair, feeling herself beginning to doze off. She'd probably stay here just a little while longer and then make her way down to the strip to get some lunch. She had no solid plans for the day except to do whatever the hell she felt like doing. There were four days left on her vacation schedule and she planned to enjoy every last second.

A few minutes passed before a frown made its way across her face. She felt her space being invaded. Heard it, too. She opened her eyes and turned her head to her left, squinting behind her sunglasses before she sat up slightly and dropped her jaw. Why was she surprised? Really? He'd pop up in her car, in her house, in her booth during lunch, why not show up hundreds of miles from home during her vacation?

Still stunned regardless, she watched as he continued to nonchalantly set up his beach chair in his sandals, shorts, and t-shirt, his cell phone, towel, and sunscreen set on the hot sand between them. Once he'd gotten his chair set, he sat on the edge facing her, a wide, teasing grin on his face. She couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses but she knew they were twinkling.

"Joss," he said, pulling his t-shirt over his head. "Looks like Florida's been treating you well."

She finally pulled her jaw back up as her thoughts ran wild and she felt his eyes run down and up her body once. She couldn't help but feel slightly self-conscious. Though she wore a modest one-piece, he was still seeing more of her than he'd ever seen before. She watched as he turned to set his shirt over the back of the chair. She was seeing more of him than she'd ever seen before, too. Maybe it wouldn't have been a big deal, normally. But she was attracted to him and she knew the feeling was mutual.

Feeling bolstered by the dark sunglasses she was wearing, she scanned his torso while he casually applied sunscreen to his arms, chest, and stomach. He was surprisingly not as blemished as she always assumed he was. The battle scars he got from her fight with HR and her assistance to Snow caught her eye and she swallowed. Suddenly her vacation from it all felt like anything but. "What are you doing here?"

He switched to rubbing down his legs and shrugged. "I can take a vacation, too."

"Since when?"

"Since this morning."

She sighed to herself. He was here two minutes and already being infuriating. He got on her last damn nerve but she knew a sick, twisted part of her liked it. "You gonna make me ask it?"

He paused his movements and looked at her, keeping his eyes on her face. Her red bathing suit was hugging her frame as they tended to do, but against her tanned and moist skin, it was wreaking havoc on him. He was instantly reminded of how her lips felt against his for that very brief moment, and the urge for a repeat, extended performance suddenly overwhelmed him. The desire to feel her skin against his overpowered him. She was glowing, sexy, and having been deprived of her presence all this time but having her so near now had him doubting his well-honed willpower.

She was looking at him expectantly and he finally remembered her question. "Ask what?"

"Why are you here?"

"Finch gave me some time off."

"No. Why are you _here_?"

"You're here," he said matter-of-factly. He decided to change the subject, not ready to go there just yet. "How's it been so far?"

She studied him a moment longer before turning to face the ocean. "Good." She knew he had come because she was here. But in the nearly three years she'd known him and Finch, he'd never gone on a vacation as far as she knew. Granted, there was no Shaw to take over for him in the first couple years. But the point still stood. Another point that still stood was that he could have gone anywhere, but he came here. It made her smile and it made her anxious. The last time they spent any significant time together, their relationship changed. Down here, away from everything and everybody, where everyone came to cast their worries aside and be carefree, she knew it was going to change again. And that was why he was here.

"Just good?"

"Yeah, it's been good. I needed it."

He nodded in agreement. "You did. Mind?"

She turned to look at him as he held out the bottle of sunscreen. _Damn._ Playing it off like touching him was going to be as simple and inconsequential as a walk in the park, she swung her legs over the side of the chair and grabbed the bottle from him, almost faltering as her fingers brushed against his. _The hell is wrong with you, Joss? _She stood to her feet and watched as he slid down his chair a little so that she would have room to sit behind him. She willed her hands not to tremble as she poured some of the sunscreen into her hand, but they laughed at her efforts to control them. His back was to her, though, so she was spared the embarrassment.

Closing the lid and setting the bottle on the sand, she rubbed her hands together before placing them on the heated skin of his back. It was hard there, the muscles of his back underscoring the enormity of his strength. She noted the contrast of her skin against his, imagined the flexing of his back as he stroked. She tried to get her heart to stop attempting to beat its way out of her chest but, again, the muscle laughed at her brain's commands. Nervous and flustered, she wanted to get it over with, wanted her inappropriate thoughts to stop. But the part that hated him for doing this to her wanted payback, even if only a little. She slowed the movement of her hands, running them along the sides of his torso and towards the front of his ribcage before drawing them back to his back. She tucked her thumbs briefly below the waistband of his trunks before massaging the length of his back again and caressing his shoulders. He tensed up the moment her hands first left his back and she could practically taste her success, making her own nervousness disappear and the tension between them ratchet up a few levels.

When she'd decided she was finished teasing him, she took her hands away from his body and sat back, tucking one leg underneath her. She watched as he turned to face her and she swallowed. She couldn't see his eyes—his sunglasses were too dark—but she felt them burning her, leaving her skin singed in their wake. He leaned toward her, casually placing his hand on her knee, letting it slowly slide up a few inches to her thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles there. Not even with a gun pointed to her head would she have confessed that it made her wet. That was going to the grave with her.

"Are you good?" His voice sounded like sex and her brain stopped firing on all cylinders.

She didn't know what he was talking about. Was she good? What was he offering? She knew what she was thinking about but were they even there yet? Did they skip ahead and she missed it? "What?"

He nodded his head toward the sand where his belongings lay. "Sunscreen."

_Oh._ "Yeah, I'm good." _Jesus._ Maybe she did need a reapplication but there was no way in hell she was going to let him do it. Sex on the beach wouldn't be just a drink to her anymore if she did. She got up from his chair, his hand finally falling away from her thigh, and settled back onto her own. The shade from her umbrella and the melanin of her skin would have to protect her now. She simply could not risk him offering to do her back. Not right now.

John settled back in his chair, crossing his legs at his ankles and putting his hands behind his head. He was glad she had gotten up and broken his spell when she had. It was broad daylight and they were in public.

He had come here for a few reasons. One, he saw the opportunity to be with her without the shadow of HR, Quinn, and the FBI hanging over them and he missed her terribly. While Finch hadn't exactly given him a vacation, he'd told his friend he was going to take one and had faced no opposition. Two, he wanted to see where they stood after he had kissed her and told her what she meant to him. His third reason for coming depended on the second. He wanted more. And he wanted to know if she wanted more. Six months of stewing over it, questioning it, denying it, accepting it, and cycling through all over again had finally brought him here at the first opportunity. And after all that time, he knew he wasn't going to make it long. His patience was just about shot after only five minutes in her presence. Just that quickly he had acquired an addiction to her touch. They were on borrowed time now. That's all there was to it.

Her voice broke his reverie. "So you left Fusco and Shaw alone?"

He turned to her briefly. "I did."

"Poor Finch."

He chuckled in response.

"When's the last time you took a vacation?" Joss was curious but she also wanted to fill the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them after she escaped his chair.

"I got leave in the agency."

"Where'd you go?"

"I've been everywhere. Name it, I've been there. How about you?"

"For vacation? I really haven't been too many places. I've been to Prague, London, and the Bahamas on a cruise. I really want to go to Argentina one day, though."

"Next time you get a break, we should go. Taylor have a passport?"

She turned to look at him. She knew he meant it. He wasn't much for saying things just to say them. "Yeah."

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" He hoped her evening was free. Or she'd free it for him. Taylor had gone back early to go with his dad to Hawaii. His parents' vacations had unwittingly overlapped and he couldn't pass up the chance to head to the islands. John didn't intend to crowd her for the remainder of her trip. It was originally a mother and son vacation but that didn't mean she didn't want to enjoy the alone time her son's early departure had granted her.

"None really. I'm gonna get lunch here in a minute." She expected him to invite himself to lunch with her. And she wouldn't have complained. But he didn't.

"How about dinner? Tonight?" He turned to watch her reaction. If she thought he was asking her out on a date, she was right.

She didn't hesitate. "Yeah….we can get dinner later. What time?"

"Six?"

"Okay." She watched as he hopped up, shedding his sunglasses for the first time and squinting at her in the sunlight.

"Don't let me hold you up, Joss. Enjoy your lunch. But leave some room for dinner." He winked at her and headed toward the water.

She watched him go and sighed heavily to herself. She couldn't believe, out of all the men in the world, he was going to end up being the one meant for her. He wasn't ideal. He was so far from ideal it made her head hurt when she thought about it. But she was drawn to him. He was powerful and protective, respectful and honest. He made her laugh. He made her want him. And she knew if she gave him the chance, he would make her happy.

She watched him swim for a moment, gratified to see him enjoying himself, before gathering her things and heading back to her hotel room. She sighed to herself again. It was going to be a long day waiting for six o'clock to arrive.

* * *

><p>It was the longest day ever. Nervous anticipation had prolonged and nearly ruined her day, the butterflies in her stomach constant companions, getting on her last nerve until she finally decided to just make peace with them. She fretted over what to wear, not having brought anything worthy of a fancy dinner. The dressiest thing she'd brought was a black knee-length sundress with a surplice neck. Black sandals, flat. No heels anywhere in her suitcase. She was on vacation, she told herself as she kicked herself. She hadn't expected to be going on a date, much less with a man prettier than she was. So she'd eventually told the butterflies they were going shopping. Not only would they be finding something decent for her to wear, they'd have something to do besides watch the damn seconds tick by on the clock.<p>

Unfortunately, she didn't find anything. So she stood looking at herself in the mirror and accepted her appearance. The black dress was on, black sandals as well, along with some earrings. Her hair hung loosely and her lips were painted plum. She'd at least bought a cuff and a dainty necklace while she was out, completing the look. She took in a deep breath. The butterflies were really acting up now, forgetting they had made peace with her earlier. It was five 'til six and she couldn't take it. Grabbing the ice bucket, she poured out the water and left the room for some ice so she could down some cold water to soothe her ridiculously dry throat, and possibly her nerves.

On her way back to her room, she rounded the corner and saw John standing outside her door. He'd texted her an hour ago to ask what room she was in. He was in the same hotel. Of course. She forgot all about the butterflies as the pounding of her heart took over. He was there, finally, to take her out and he looked fine as hell. She took another deep breath. It was happening. Things were about to change.

She watched him turn to smile at her and take in her appearance. Jesus lord he was fine. "Hey."

"Hi."

She stopped beside him to slip her key card in the slot. But he didn't make much of a move to get out of her way, only shifting so her back ended up pressed against his front. It was only for a few seconds but the temperature and her yearning elevated sharply. To mask it, she decided to tease him as she opened the door. "You're early."

"Two minutes?"

"Still early." She set the bucket on the counter beside the kitchenette sink just inside the room.

"Isn't that gonna melt by the time you get back?"

"This is for now. Besides. You planning on keeping me out late?" She tossed a saucy look over her shoulder at him as she scooped her glass into the bucket to fill it with ice.

"As late as I can."

Already. The man was starting with her already. She opened the bottle of lukewarm water and poured some into the glass. She immediately took a sip but it did little to soothe her dry throat. As soon as she swallowed, she was parched once again, feeling his eyes on her. Finally, she saw him move further into the room in her peripheral vision, eventually turning to face him as he moved safely out of reach. She watched as he let his hand trail lightly over the bed as he passed it and looked around. "Did you want some?"

He turned to her as he made it over to her window. His eyes settled onto her cleavage for just a moment. "Water? No, thank you."

She took another sip. He was not trying to hide it, was he? She studied him as he peered past the curtain into the evening sky. He wore a burgundy dress shirt and belted black slacks. He looked good enough to eat. And she was hungry. "You look nice." It was an understatement, but it was a little after six, she really was hungry, and if she told him just how good he truly did look, she was sure they wouldn't be leaving this room anytime soon.

He turned to face her again. "Thank you." His eyes travelled around the room. "Nice room."

"Yeah, it's okay. Has a nice view."

"It does."

She took yet another swig. Because he wasn't looking around the room anymore. He'd scanned from her feet back to her face. She had to say something. Steer them somewhere else. De-sexify things. She was determined they were going to at least get dinner first, no matter what was on his mind. Their minds. She had self-control. She did. "What do you have? A penthouse suite?"

He shrugged. "Borrowed John Warren's platinum card. It's a suite. Just not a penthouse suite."

She finally set her glass down on the countertop before moving to the chair to grab her purse. She shouldered the bag and put a grin on her face. "Must be nice. Is he single? Does he have a brother?" It had already left her mouth before she considered the ramifications. For someone trying to take a sledgehammer to the sexual tension so they could get to the damn restaurant, she was doing a piss poor job. She didn't know what was getting into her. Whether it was him or too much sun getting to her. But it looked like she was on vacation and so was her self-control.

She watched him chuckle as he walked over to her.

"Single? I don't think so. Not anymore."

She looked up at him as he stood in front of her, her flat sandals making her feel smaller than usual before him. She felt herself begin to tremble and she breathed deeply through her nostrils, praying she wouldn't make a complete fool of herself right here, right now, right in front of him. He always looked at people intensely. He always looked at her intensely. He was just an intense man. But this look. This look this time paralyzed her. No, he didn't consider himself single or available anymore. Yes, she was his before she'd even agreed to the arrangement.

"Want to see it?"

All that damn water she'd just drank and her throat was still dry as she swallowed. "What?"

"The room?"

He let up. Somewhat. He must have sensed he was reducing her to nothingness in front of him. He could have taken her, had his way with her that very moment if he'd wanted to. But maybe he truly was hungry, too. The funny thought shook her from her trance. "Yeah." She turned then, leading the way to her door. That had been close. But she'd just agreed to go to his room and she couldn't decide if that was a wise move or not.

* * *

><p>John's suite was three floors above hers and huge. Her stomach growled as she perused it, reminding her not to get caught up. The carpet was plush, everything looked fragile, and it screamed money. There was only one bed, double king-sized, and she passed by it quickly when freaky thoughts of her and him and that bed involuntarily invaded her thoughts. "This is nice. Really nice. I've never stayed in a suite this nice. You wanna trade?"<p>

"You want it, it's yours."

That much she already knew. If she wanted it, he'd do whatever he could to get it for her. She smiled back at him as she made her way over to the balcony. He had his hands stuck in his pockets, almost looking relaxed, watching her covet his room.

Watching and not understanding why he wanted her so badly. Why he'd lived to be forty-four years old without ever knowing this feeling before. Without ever knowing just how good it could be. What was it about her? Why did it consume him? Why did it scare him and thrill him more than fights and bullets and high speed car chases ever had?

Why was this tiny woman, this cop, this mother, so damn perfect for him?

He watched her open the French doors and immediately conjured up images of her stepping out onto the balcony into the morning sun, clad in her robe, while he watched entangled in twisted sheets from the bed. Storing that fantasy in his mind, he followed her onto the balcony and stood beside her behind the railing.

"This is beautiful. I see why people retire down here."

He took his eyes away from the serenity of her face and shrugged his shoulder as he looked out over the water. "Too many alligators." She laughed and he appreciated the sound. He had wanted her to. He liked to hear it and he needed to stop himself from slipping into yet another trance with her. Because he could stay here and watch her face and soak in her tranquility and beauty all night.

"Might be worth it. Look at it."

He did. And he couldn't imagine looking at it with anyone else but her. Maybe they could do it one day. Retire down here. Anything to see that look on her face again and again.

Silence wafted around them as they continued to watch the sun begin to set. As they both continued to imagine what it would be like to stand where they were as a couple. As they both realized they were going to know what it was like sooner rather than later.

"I know why you came down here."

John didn't turn to her as her voice traveled across the silent chasm. He smiled to himself. "I know."

Several beats passed.

"I'm glad you came."

He nodded as he felt her eyes fall onto the side of his face, pleased and relieved. And ready. She had just told him everything he needed to know. She was open for more. And he wanted more. It relaxed him, knowing that wherever he decided to take them, wherever he wanted to go, she'd follow. The only thing left to do was go.

He was ready to tell her, show her. He had already bared his soul to her six months ago. But now he was ready to give her the rest of him. He thought about kissing her right now, dragging her back inside to make love to her. Nixing the dinner plans and ordering room service. He was ready to claim his permanent space by her side. But he wanted more first. He wanted to take her to dinner. Wine and dine her like she deserved. Be seen with her on his arm without worrying about who might see them.

Anticipate just a little bit longer until he couldn't stand it anymore.

Finally, he turned to her. "Let's go eat."

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, and she would turn those damn plastic runners over all the time!" Joss laughed as they walked along the beach, reminiscing about growing up with her sister, spending summers with their grandmother. "She knew I hated wearing anything on my feet and she got me all the time. She was real clever, too. Every time she got me, I'd be real careful for awhile afterwards and she'd never do it. Then, when I got complacent, she'd get me again." She laughed some more. "To this day, John, I refuse to have those things anywhere near my house."<p>

John shared in her mirth. "Now I know what to get you for Christmas."

She laughed. "Yeah, if you want to get hurt."

"You can try. You can always try." He feigned pain when she punched him lightly in the bicep as they kept walking. Dinner had been hell. He couldn't stop staring at her under the restaurant's soft, amber lighting. He couldn't stop hanging onto every word out of her full mouth. And every piece of food going into that mouth. Everything she did distracted him and he had to make it a point to engage her and make her laugh as much as possible in order to keep her from noticing his staring. In order to tone down his intensity so he wouldn't make her uncomfortable.

He'd made it through dinner, dessert, and a show at a comedy club not far from the restaurant they'd passed by that she wanted to see. The headliner wasn't funny at all but he'd have enjoyed watching paint dry as long as he was with her. He'd made it through all of that and now they were finally alone, walking along the shore. It was late, the night sky illuminated by the resort buildings and burgeoning nightlife a good distance away. Instead of joining the party-goers, she'd asked him if they could walk along the beach. So they walked, her sandals and purse in her hands, his shoes and socks in his.

"So why'd you choose Captiva Island?"

"This." She looked around with a small sweep of her arm. "It's not as popular, quieter. If I wanted to be around a lot of people, I'd have stayed in New York."

"I'm glad you got away. I was worried about you."

She didn't say anything for awhile, just kept her head down. She could always deal with his teasing and flirting. But when he started expressing how much he cared about her, it always threw her. Made her nervous. Because she knew. She knew what it meant. And, back home, she had never been ready to face it.

She remembered how, in the last six months, he'd show up in the shadows. How he'd made sure she knew he was still there. That she wasn't alone. "Thanks for checking in on me."

John shrugged. "I had to." There was a lot he could have added but he didn't. She already knew.

"_You changed me…..I can't lose you…...You're stuck with me….I'm just glad I was with you…..No one I'd rather be with at the end_." Over and over she'd thought about those words. Over and over she'd resented being unable to be near him all this time. Everything had been left hanging, incomplete. And she hated not finishing things.

That kiss. She'd had a feeling he liked her. A strong feeling. She liked him, too, but it was never something she'd let take root. Never anything she'd let show. _What good would come of it?_ she'd always thought. But he was here with her now. He had come for her. And everything in her wanted to be taken. "I needed you to."

Her heart began to pound when she noticed him slowing to a stop. He turned to look down at her, and though it was too dark to see the color of his eyes, she could still feel them burrowing somewhere deep within her.

"Do you need me?" He watched her, very little light illuminating her face, warm breeze blowing her hair.

Did she? Could she go on living happily if he were gone? It scared her how quickly she came up with the answer. How very little doubt accompanied it in her heart. She looked at him. He'd already given her his answer six months ago. He needed and deserved hers. "I need you."

She stood still when he took a step closer, when the brief feeling of deja vu came over her as he pressed his palm to the side of her face. When his other hand dropped his shoes and socks and came up to frame her face. And she closed her eyes when he softly brought his lips to hers. It was soft, sweet. Soft and sweet like it had been the last time. The first time. He pulled back and she felt the tremble in him through his palms.

It didn't end like last time.

He leaned in again, lips brushing against hers, sweet breath hot against them. He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. She could feel his barely contained energy, feel him trying with everything he had to keep it in check. Straining. She wanted it. His passion. She trembled. She shook. She shook so hard she was mortified. Until he couldn't hold it back any longer and turned his head, taking possession of her mouth. And their combined nervous energy combusted.

She dropped her sandals and bag.

They sucked at each other, pulled, heads turning, trying desperately to find new angles they had yet to explore. His hands fell from her face to pull her into him at her waist, her hands lifting to grasp at his hair. His tongue burned and soothed her. Her lips, her teeth, her tongue. A relentless stream of wet heat pooled between her thighs as the fire they ignited smoldered in her belly. As the sand between her toes seemed to turn as hot as her entire body.

He pulled away from her, mouth parting from hers, air fighting to fill his lungs against his own damn wishes. He had gotten a taste, a torturingly sweet taste of her hunger. Her passion. And now his thirst couldn't be quenched fast enough. He sharpened his focus on her. On his need. There was no longer any room left in his pants and he needed release. He needed her. He had to have her. "I want you." It was a strangled cry. It was pathetic. But he didn't care.

"Have me." The words left her mouth without any stops between her brain and vocal cords. And then her feet left the sand.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, tongue crawling out of her mouth to wrap around his ear lobe. She lost touch with reality, with her surroundings, wanting for nothing except to feel a hard surface beneath her so she could feel him inside her.

He'd found the nearest beach chair. She felt her back hit it as his mouth found hers again, as her hand found his erection. He pushed her dress up her thighs, bunching it around her hips. She unbuckled his belt. His hands pulled at the top of her dress, head dipping down to suck on her exposed nipple. Her hands unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Alarm bells rang. They were taking this carefree thing too far. They were in public. No protection. She knew they should stop, but she couldn't. She fucking couldn't.

He freed himself from his underwear and she let her legs fall on either side of the chair. She was so wet his swift entry filled her with nothing but excruciating pleasure. They rocked together, her legs shifting, wrapping around his pistoning hips. He was good at it. Sex. She let the thought cross her mind before nothing but feeling enveloped her.

"H-harder. Harder." She pleaded with him. Begged him. His stroke game was driving her wild and she wanted more. More than she could take. He took her there. Beyond her desires, beyond her limits. She clawed at his clothed back, probably tearing the fabric. She cried out. The _oh god, oh god, oh god_ incantations choked whispers against the night air.

He huffed out staccato breaths against her neck. She felt like home and he could not get enough. She held him and gripped him and the precise friction broke him down to his basest self. The chants in his ear spurred him on, kept him going past his ability to hold off the orgasm he knew would shatter him fully.

He was running on fumes now, his groans beginning to run together. But he kept going. He kept giving her everything. "Joss."

"_John_."

Finally. She called his name finally and he felt her walls clenching rhythmically around him and her nails digging impossibly deeper into his back. He joined her immediately and together they frantically choked on air as they came and then came down.

Once he had his muscles back under his control, John lifted his head and looked at her, a smile playing along his features.

Joss's eyes remained closed but she could hear him smiling and it became contagious.

She opened her eyes and shook her head at him, drawing her hand to his face, saying nothing while she mused. She was still tingling, body still humming. "I'm always doing something illegal when I'm with you. Why is that?"

He chuckled and looked around them, grateful no one was around. "That was worth a few nights in jail, Joss."

She couldn't help but let a small laugh escape her as they stared at each other through the darkness. Letting it all sink in. Soaking each other in. "John?"

"Mm-hmm?" He kissed her softly on the lips.

"I really don't want to get arrested."

He laughed again and finally decided he'd better get moving. He withdrew from her and slid alongside her, helping her lower her dress before fixing his own pants. She pulled the top of her dress back up and they settled into the chair, his arms wrapped around her as he shifted so that he was mostly underneath her. The night sky was pleasing to their eyes and the breeze helped cool their bodies as they both thought about what they'd just done. And what it meant. After a minute or two, Joss sat up, grabbing his hand. "Let's go find our shoes."

"Okay."

Nothing else needed to be said.

* * *

><p>They entered his suite soon after leaving the beach. She was grateful to finally be behind a closed door, having felt exposed walking in the lobby, like she was doing the walk of shame and all the hotel employees could tell they had just finished having sex. Getting a good look at John under the bright lobby lights, it couldn't have been more obvious. Her lipstick was smeared around his mouth, his shirt untucked, hair disheveled. She hoped she looked a little better but she doubted it.<p>

After turning on the lights, John headed into the living room area of the suite and turned on the television. He tossed the remote back onto the couch and turned to her. "Anything to drink?" He was parched for obvious reasons and figured she was, too.

Joss set her bag on the floor next to the couch. "Water, please." As he headed to the full-size kitchen, she made her way to the bathroom to relieve her bladder. Alone with her thoughts, she washed her hands and shook her head to herself. Sex on the beach. She was a grown ass woman—a cop—having sex on the beach. She shook her head again. It was a good thing she trusted him. That he was trustworthy. That he would never steer her wrong. Because she clearly had no limits when it came to him. No limits to what she'd do for and with him.

It was good, though. She smiled to herself. _Extremely_ good.

Leaving the bathroom, she found him in the kitchen and stopped a few feet in, watching as he leaned his back against the counter and typed something into his cell phone. He turned to set it on the counter after a few more seconds.

"Checking in with Finch." He picked up the extra glass and walked over to hand it to her, eyeing her as he took a sip from his own glass.

"All's well?"

He nodded, still not taking his eyes from her.

_Shit_. She wanted to be reasonable. Truly. But she wanted him again. The tension had only broken for the twenty minutes it took to get from the beach to his hotel room. Maybe they should talk. Act like they had restraint. Figure out what the hell they were going to do when they got home. But she really wanted him again.

"Are you hungry?" He nodded his head toward the cabinets. "There're some snacks in there. We could order room service." He was trying to go through the motions. Be a good host. Offer food, drink. Television entertainment. Not pounce on her immediately. Practice some inhibition. But she was responding to him on a primal level. Had been since she entered the kitchen a minute ago. Looking like a vision in her form-fitting dress, faint trace of lipstick still on her pillowy soft lips. He wanted to take that dress off. He wanted to see her naked. He wanted her nude and writhing when he made love to her this time.

She shrugged her shoulder, eyes lowering to his pants before travelling back up to his face. "Maybe later." She was about to end this. What were they playing coy for? It wasn't like this was uncharted territory anymore. They had three days left if he didn't get called back sooner. Why waste precious time? They were behind closed doors now. They could take their time now. She could finally see what had felt so good inside her thirty minutes ago. She watched as he smirked, the look suddenly sexier than it ever was before.

"Later?" He hadn't wanted to presume but he liked the implications of that answer. He set his glass on the counter before stepping to her and resting his hands on her waist. He marveled that he could do that now. Touch her.

She leaned over to set her glass down and wrapped her arms around his neck, rising to the tips of her toes. "Well, why'd you bring me here?"

He shrugged his left shoulder. "You wanted it. I said you could have it."

"So, it's my suite now?"

He nodded once. "Everything in here is yours."

"I control the guest list then?"

"Absolutely."

She cocked her head, a sly look taking over her features. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?"

He shook his head no, pulling her body flush against his.

"What if I offered you a place?"

"I'd accept. Are you offering?"

"Yes."

His hands shifted and he rubbed her back. "Any conditions?"

His voice was a low rumble she heard and felt. She thought about it for a few seconds. "No leaving the toilet seat up."

The chuckle bubbled out of his throat before he bent at his waist, arching her backward slightly to place a kiss on her lips. He let his voice drop impossibly low. "Looks like you've got yourself a houseguest."

She smiled and held on for dear life as he kissed her again, walking her backwards until she hit the counter. His hands moved to her waist and lifted her until she sat atop it. Immediately she missed the feel of his body pressed against hers. The feel of that hardness against her before it inevitably went back inside her. Her body anticipated it as well as her mind, her juices beginning to flood her already wet panties. She pulled him as close as she could while sliding as far to the edge of the counter as she could. But she still couldn't get close enough. She wrapped her legs around him in a vice-like grip, grinning for a moment against his lips. She felt him again, right where she wanted him.

His kiss, though. His kisses. They were making her crazy, buoying her lust for him. Languid and moist, they expertly nipped and licked and took away her breath as he held her close and ran his hands up and down her back. It took her awhile but she got the message: he was in control, and he wanted it slow. He wanted to savor. He wanted them to simmer until it was time to boil over. She shivered, damn near coming just thinking about it. Hard and fast had broken her down. This was liable to kill her.

John released her mouth, brushing his cheek against the side of her face as he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and accepted his fate: she was going to be the end of him. Many had tried and failed. And tried again. But it was going to be her. She was the one person on this earth who could bring him down and he knew it.

Drawing his thoughts back to the present, he was ready to see her. All of her. He slowly pulled himself from her grasp, running his hands along her thighs and calves to unlock them from around his body. He kept his darkened gaze on her as he removed one sandal from her foot and then the other. He stepped closer again, sliding his hands under her butt and lifting slightly until he was able to push her dress up to her hips. She raised her arms, letting him pull the garment over her head.

He only halfway suppressed his groan.

Joss Carter was sitting before him in nothing but a pair of black panties and desire. He already knew how perfectly he fit inside her. But to see her. The beauty and strength within her small frame. It made her the sexiest woman he'd ever seen. "You're perfect," he whispered. He reached out and cupped her breasts, lightly running his thumbs over her nipples.

Joss let out a sigh as she watched him focus, watched him study how her nipples pebbled and hardened as he flicked them, watched him learn her body.

She watched as his eyes lit on hers for a moment before he lowered his head and ran his tongue over one peak. A moan left her body and her head fell back as the fingers of his left hand trailed lightly down her stomach until they found her clit through her panties. He circled her there with his thumb, still sucking and laving and teasing her nipple.

It didn't take long.

She couldn't believe how close she was to the brink already. How easily he'd mastered her body like he mastered his weapons. The thought had only just crossed her mind before he increased the pressure of both his tongue and thumb and she came hard, suddenly, her breathy pants rough, her cries pitiful, the sound of her pleasure filling the air.

He stood quickly, parting her lips with his as he pulled her to his chest, holding her, giving her time to ride out the surprising intensity. He wanted to smile, pat himself on the back, but he knew she was just as capable of bringing him to his knees without much effort.

It wasn't long before she pushed at his chest to put some space between them so she could work on relieving him of his shirt. The obstacle gone, she peppered kisses across his bare chest, swirling her tongue around his nipples while lowering her hands to the bulge in his pants. He was stretching the fabric so tautly she struggled to free him without catching him on his zipper. Pooling his pants and underwear at his feet, she looked down at him, held him, stroked him. He was as impressive as he felt earlier. She slid off the counter to her feet. "On the counter," she commanded.

He stepped out of his clothes and shoes and obeyed.

She squatted and took him into her mouth, her hand gripping what her tongue couldn't reach. They worked in concert, hand and mouth, pulling and pumping. His moans filled the kitchen, the sound an orgasm for her ears. She glanced up at him, at his open mouth, his lolling head, at the man beneath the armor, and didn't want to stop.

"Joss…...Come here, Joss." The warmth of her mouth. The feel of her swirling tongue. She was killing him and he wasn't ready to leave this earth yet. He hadn't had her again yet. He slid gracefully off the counter, pulled her up, and kissed her hungrily. Frantically.

_So much for taking it slow_, she thought hastily.

And then she was in his arms again, legs around his waist again, in dire need of him. Again.

Entering the bedroom, he walked to the side of the bed, one hand sweeping the comforter and sheet down, sending the closest pillow flying. Dropping her onto the mattress, the look on his face was predatory as he watched her bounce before falling to his knees, grabbing her thighs, and pulling her to the edge. Her soaked panties were off in seconds, his tongue flat against her folds next. He did it again, one long swipe, and her toes began to tingle. He circled her clit, plunged his tongue inside. Again and again.

Again.

_Again._

He hummed against her. "Do you know how good you taste?"

She couldn't answer him even if she wanted to. Her mind wasn't all there. She was somewhere between sanity and delirium. Her arms and hands began to shake as she tried to grab the sheet beneath her, tried to ground herself somewhere, somehow.

Holding her hips down, he fucked her with his tongue until her moans changed. He flicked his tongue over her clit until she gasped for air. He licked her up, down, and around until she could only gasp out his name.

He went on, increasing his pace, increasing the friction, faster and faster until he could barely keep her down. Until she screamed. Until she came so hard her thighs clamped around his head while her hands pushed him away.

It was too much. It was too much for her body to take and she struggled to push him away as her body convulsed. As every nerve ending flared up making her feel as if she were on fire. She scooted higher onto the bed, away from his tortuous mouth, arms outstretched in front of her, making sure he stayed the hell away from the quivering juncture between her thighs as she tried not to cry from pleasure and agony. She felt him crawl onto the bed and lay on top of her, sliding his arms beneath her body and holding her close. Soothingly. He had some nerve, she halfheartedly thought. Trying to be comforting after what he'd just done to her.

She didn't speak. Couldn't. He had positively fucked her up. Spasms continued to rock her as he kissed the side of her face, her forehead, before nuzzling her neck. She wasn't sure she could take it when he lowered his hands and pulled her thighs apart so he could settle between them. She wasn't sure she could take it when he slowly slid inside. She wasn't sure she could take it when he began to move, once again slipping his arms around her back, keeping her wrapped tightly in his arms.

His thrusts were shallow, knowing she was still sensitive to his touch, knowing it wouldn't be long before she spasmed around him. He wanted to stretch it out a bit, wanted to gently push her back up that incline so they could fall off together. But while he was thinking about her, his own pleasure became too much to bear. She gripped him even tighter than she had before and he was succumbing to the blistering torture before he even realized it. Penetrating deeper, faster, he raised himself onto his haunches, still holding her close, barreling toward completion.

The end was violent and shook them down to their bones. He didn't feel her claw his back as their orgasms looped and ran together and fed off one another. She didn't feel his dead weight crushing her to the mattress when all was said and done.

Joss looked to the ceiling, finally becoming cognizant of the space around her. The light from the living room area filtering in. The muted sound of a laugh track from the television. Then she felt herself rolling until she lay on top of John.

_John._

It couldn't be like this every time. She couldn't move. She still couldn't speak. She was seconds away from passing out from exhaustion. Where in God's name did he get the intensity from? It was in everything he did and the last thing she wanted was to die from having sex with this man. It wouldn't be a bad way to go but what would he tell everybody?

It was the last thing she thought and it drifted lazily from her mind as they both fell asleep and didn't move until morning.

**_Three Days Later_**

John awoke to an empty bed Sunday morning, feeling the loss of Joss in more ways than one. It was time to go back home. Time to go back to the real world. Numbers, the machine, cases, trials. Separation. He watched from the bed as she exited the bathroom in her thin robe.

"Good morning." She smiled as she acknowledged him.

"Morning."

The sun was shining brightly as he watched her head toward the balcony off the bedroom. Probably to soak in the incredible view one last time. Their plane was scheduled to take off in less than four hours and they needed to get dressed, check out, drive to the airport, and get some breakfast. He stayed there for another minute quietly watching her as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Joss looked out over the ocean, at the birds chirping, the few people out for a morning jog. She was going to miss this. The quiet, the beach, the sun. The sand between her toes, the relaxation. Getting more sex than she'd had since right after getting married.

She was going to miss John.

She jumped when she felt him come up behind her, wrapping them both in the comforter from the bed. It was nearly a minute before either of them spoke.

"I'm not ready to go back."

John gripped her tighter in response.

"I'm going to miss you."

He didn't trust his voice and didn't say anything for a moment. He was going to miss her, too. Terribly. "I'll be around."

"I know."

Another minute went by before he let his thoughts slip out, his strong voice wavering. "Don't let me in if I can't stay away."

She felt tears pool in her eyes at his confession. Did he really think she would be strong enough to do that? But she nodded anyway. He needed it. "Wait for me."

He nodded. "I will."

~End

Thanks for reading. :)


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